Peach Fizz
by CascadeBeige
Summary: Visiting a bar Sarah finds Peach references, a comrade, and some unusual happenings. Something glittery this way comes. Standalone Companion to BFA. Drinking and lounge culture references. Implied J/S.


_Peach Fizz_

by CascadeBeige

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a/n: Rated mid teen to Adult. Drinking & dating culture, mild language. This is a standalone fic, and companion to my other work _Biting Fairy Apothecary_.

I do NOT own Jim Henson's _Labyrinth_. Any similarities (to other places, people, things etc) are coincidental. I love feedback. If there's any constructive criticism let me know, please use appropriate CC etiquette.

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OC: Tamara Wood, biracial and proud. From the US south-has a mild drawl and a mind of her own. Near age of mid-late twenties Sarah.

ols: OST _Cat People_. Remember that song, 'Peaches' by POTUSOA? Yep, mood.

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Sarah swallowed a dry throat. The acerbic residue of the Sazerac left the twinge of orange in her cheeks. She needed ice water, but the mixologists were occupied with the other couples and in their labors.

This hideaway bar proved easy to find through a single transit-bus ride and a brisk walk. The quaint lounge-bar sat fourth floor in a brick building of the old-town conveniently across from a wooded park.

'Nectarine', as the place was called, where a bay view lurked only a few blocks away. Of course any good viewing seats were taken and packed-in.

She'd been here once before. Not a drinker, but a good online review convinced her to make the trip to see the romantic-looking bar for herself. An absinthe mixed drink called her name those months ago. Auburn hardwood wood accents on floor and walls reflected the Italian string bulbs and port lights.

However the crowds this evening altered any previous sense of tranquility.

Her lower leg prickled in tense shivers as she readjusted on the stiff wooden stool.

Voices babbled into clattering glasses, shuffling peoples, and unlisted indie music. She did not feel comfortable staying long.

She came here not an hour ago, with a nice fiction novel in satchel, expecting the place to be only light in clientele. She reevaluated the space. People chattered and servers scooted to and fro. Difficult to navigate—considering the place was more or less crammed save a few booths and empty bar seats.

/What a let-down, / Sarah mused. /Everyone in town hauled ass in here to do…whatever they do! On a Friday _afternoon_? /

She re-swallowed, and shifted on the unforgiving wood. Thank goodness for the tailbone level backing on the stool or she'd surely fall off. That Sazerac hit harder than any drink she can remember.

A song came on. The singer sounded familiar, though she'd never heard the tune before. Though lightly tipsy, the music over the chatter felt like a lucid experience—something in the male rasp jolted her psyche.

Her memory removed her to revisit a repressed fog of her fifteen year old self. The voice brought her mind to the dome ballroom where a faceless male vanished and appeared among the crowds.

She moved forward, through miasma, and made eye contact. A blank face.

Sarah began to cough, and the seeming charm vanished.

She opened her tearing eyes to find a person sitting on the stool next to her. She seemed worried as she made eye contact with the unsuspecting Sarah.

Sarah immediately looked to her empty glass. "…sorry."

"Hey, you zoned out for a minute. You were staring at the bottle of amaretto, on the bar shelf, like it was the holy grail. Ya okay?" The sable-braided hair glistened with beading as the woman cocked her head, smiled tentatively.

"I uhm,…don't like crowds." The truth fell through the haze of Sarah's brain. The woman nodded and waved over a young lanky server.

"Here, ya need water, or some food? It's on me. My date cancelled out last minute. So guess I'm here too."

Sarah nodded, looked into the woman's mink eyes. "Water. And bread?"

The woman ruffed eyebrows, then shook her bejeweled locks in agreement. "Hey, Chance," she addressed the server. "We'll take half a toasted baguette. And a Moscow mule for me and double the shot.

"Got it Tamara." He swayed out of vision.

The specificity of the order bewildered Sarah. 'Tamara' must be a regular.

Green-eyed former piped up, "I'm just here, I thought I'd avoid too many people but I was wrong." Sarah managed a lighter smile. The woman was no threat and seemed genuine.

"I was worried you were about to fall off the stool, looks like I got here in time. But I'm guessing the Sazerac you got isn't your usual?" Her full lips were painted a deep emerald.

"m-mm," she negated. /Don't mess it up./ "Sorry. My name is Sarah."

Her own mind took her to temporary limbo and dropped her off in front of someone who must've found her on the brink of nervous faint. She tried not to blush in confusion.

"Oh! Right. I'm Tamara. Tamara Wood." She reached her ringed and silver-nailed hand to shake Sarah's clammy one. Her medium tan complexion glowed under the ambiance. Sarah felt pallid compared to the attractively made-up woman.

"Look… ya don't need to feel embarrassed. I'm a lightweight too. I used to go hard when I was in college. I think it permanently gave me liver scars. Now I count on one hand how many I drink in a month." She snorted.

The Williams woman nodded in humor and smiled for the first time all night. Tamara's tone helped Sarah poke out of her shelled stupor bit by bit.

A whiff of yeast heaven and butter hit Sarah's nose as Chase placed the warm platter between her and Tamara, then the clink of a metal beverage to her right. A large water glass sloshed with ice in front of Sarah, a second for Tamara. Her mouth watered.

Tamara nodded to the blond in thanks and sucked through the twin black straws in the copper mug.

The bejeweled woman swallowed and piped up, "C'mon, eat! You need the bread for your system. And chug that water."

"Good, I'm starved," Sarah smirked and helped herself to a chunk of the long sliced loaf. The crust snapped and the salted butter oozed through the interior. It was divine.

Tamara did the same and ogled during the chew. "Ohh,mm." She swallowed. "Haven't had that kinda bread since I was in a fancy restaurant. Who needs drugs…"

"I agree. I might have to get my own order of the loaf-" Sarah began.

"Yeahhhh, think I'll get a Caesar salad." Tamara announced. "I promise I'll have us split the bill. No sneaking out for me."

"No I'd never run and make you pay." Sarah got serious enough to remember to gulp her water a few times. She tried her best not to act unseemly. "I come here as an adult, not a freeloader." She lifted lips in a spark of laughter. Tamara picked up on the nuance.

An instrumental played. The end slowed and faded out. It caught Sarah off-guard, yet the carbs out her mind on the matter, and butter, in hand.

Tamara looked ahead, "I first came to 'Nectarine' months ago, as a dating-app meet. The guy I hit up was nothing short of…peculiar. He almost looked like he, well, played villains for a living."

Sarah gulped the bread and water, lightheaded from the food but felt much improved. She then nodded Tamara in storytelling. "Swarthy?" She managed after a struggled swallow. Tamara gulped her mule.

The tan woman shook head but wagged finger in recognition. "He seriously…looked like a Loki wannabe. His name was..uh…Lorne or something. Dark hair, light skin, untrustworthy eyes. Not bad at all. Where I'm from the white girls go gaga over that. No offense, Sarah." She smirked, drank.

"Maybe he, ya know, was an actor?"

"No doubt. Or a shady lawyer, salesman. I didn't get that far because I profiled him too hard. He dressed too nice. But. Bombed it. Hard…His looks,"

Tamara reached and chewed some bread. "I got through my salad before he abruptly left. Yeah he paid, extra quick on table. He nodded, too."

"Or you don't think he, uh, catfished?" Sarah tried to piece the question. She sipped her water, Sazerac effects buzzing.

"…Well, I think he might have been partial to other women. Yeah, other looks. Supposing, though." Tamara's low tone struck Sarah, who understood that it was a touchy subject as soon as uttered.

Sarah tried to make the best of this, which she had no experience comforting for. "In my opinion…I think he was smart to have left. Because then you wouldn't ever need to put up with him."

Tamara scrunched her nose in what looked like disapproval, then looked to Sarah once more. And warmed up again. "Hmm, maybe so. He also smelled like the ocean. His hair was slightly wet… Like not air freshener—nasty brine and sea critters ocean scent. Yuck."

Sarah was taken aback. She would have gagged if in that situation. "So much for actor. Definitely tide pool enthusiast."

Tamara snorted. "I wasn't wet though, thank god."

Sarah froze and made eye contact in horror. Tamara met hers, then realized the innuendo. Her face melted into a snort and a hand-covered gust of giggles. Sarah almost fell backwards in laughter and tried to contain her breathing.

The man's throaty music voice returned. Their joint laughs drowned out the creeping tone. Sarah tried to gauge her breaths. Mild tears lit into eyes.

"oh, ohhhkay, I gotta stop." Tamara heaved between breaths. "I'll pass out," she said with smirking face. Her silver tips glinted as she straightened her blouse top, moved to right her sitting. Sarah did the same as she repositioned her loose flyaways in the braid. She sipped more water.

"Uh-oh…I need the lounge-room-Be back soon. If you wanna eat more go with it. I'll get the snack bill." Tamara scooted her stressed denim with ease off the stool, onto the creaky wood flooring. She had a few inches' advantage over Sarah's height. Tamara sauntered away.

Sarah nodded "mhmm," she realized there were significantly less people in the bar area then an hour ago. Damn happy hour rush.

Her bladder strained. Oh crap. She'd have to wait until Tamara returned, she was aware it could look as if she abandoned the bill. Hurry, please…

"Can I get you more food?"

Sarah jumped out of her skin. She looked aside, it was only Chance. He seemed flushed, likely from work.

"N…no thanks-I'm waiting till she's back. I'll let you know though!" She tried to strain out a smirk. He nodded and scooted away.

Sarah felt uneasy. Not the Sazerac. Anxiety of the type she'd get in her former job, anxiety that someone, or something, was bound to make her life tough. She'd met that feeling with abandon as a cashier in an office supply warehouse.

Now it returned in a place without that type of stress. Was it her usual GAD acting up again? After a thought Sarah resigned to that justification. It was fickle, after all.

The music abruptly changed to a jazz cover of a top-forty song. Tamara came rushing back and broke Sarah from her stupor.

"You won't believe this, uh, Sarah," she chirped. She looked around as if avoiding someone. Tamara jumped into her stool, leaned into Sarah, lowered her voice.

"I saw him!" Tamara's voice trembled. "The drowned Loki-he's here. Really. Back again..."

"We can leave then?" Sarah didn't realize the hope in her tone until Tamara ogled her water and gulped.

"Yeah, good idea. I'll get the bill." She caught the eye of Chase, and mouthed something. Urgent facial expression. He nodded once, managed to slide over to the cash register after filling someone's food order.

"Wait, I uhnm…I can split it," Sarah tried.

Tamara shuffled and swiped out a glittery credit card from an unassuming wallet. And a paper money bill. Chase strode over, clicked the tab tray down.

Tamara gave her the side-eye, put the card onto tray, slid it to the blond. Something more than five dollars in cash, Sarah saw, as Tamara handed it to Chase. "On me, like we agreed."

Chase scooted away with the tray after a beat. Sarah nodded again, genuine smile. She turned, only to change expression. "It's just now…raining. And police cars outside. More than one. "

"There's some kinda storm brewin' outside. The weather-it was fine all day. But port towns all have some bodies in the harbors."

Sarah looked into Tamara's eyes, then looked aside to the wood facings on the walls. "Oh."

"Alright hon' we better move along," Tamara sensed the change in atmosphere. Chase zipped back and Tamara placed card back in the purse. They got their sore butts off the stools and Sarah landed flatter on shoes than intended. It smarted in her leg tissue.

"I'll use the rooms, too." Sarah tried not to sound dismissive. Tamara nodded. The glam woman sauntered ahead as Sarah used the facilities.

Sarah proceeded down and out with caution, avoiding the moving bodies. Tamara scooted out and turned from Sarah's sight. The green eyed woman looked back one time, feeling a tap on her shoulder.

She turned to meet a slim figure man in rather expensive slacks and a button up. Raven hair and deep eyes. Sarah smiled in accidental reaction.

Uh oh. This must be Loki McDanger. Gotta make like Shaggy 'n Scoob and scramble outta there.

"Hello, Ms. Williams. Take this please." He pushed two square cards into her space, and she took in trembling hand. The crowds seemed to slow into a trickle. "I'm sorry I just missed Tamara over there. This is yours.

He moved to straighten. "Oh, tell her that Lune said hello, her makeup suits her as usual. Have a good day, now." He sped away as quick as he materialized.

Ohhhkay. Step one, don't mention Lune, er, Loony McDemon-Loki to Tamara. She might go bonkers. Step two, read it.

Sarah looked at the bronze bordered cards. Both were heavyweight paper. "NECTARINE Bar and Lounge—VOUCHER—1 Free House Specialty Drink—no refills, limit 1" she squinted eyes. The second said the same thing.

She held fast and sped out the door to find Tamara. She stood with arms crossed, watching the ruckus. And saw the other woman. "Sarah, where'd ya go? Thought I lost you."

Sarah reached a card forward to her. Tamara looked, read, smirked. "Looks like I got a date with a free drink. Thanks a lot!"

"I got one also," Sarah re-read hers. Only to find some calligraphy at the bottom of the card. "for Sarah W. xoxo from HRH".

She almost tripped. "Tamara, what's yours say?" The brown eyed woman glanced at hers.

"Blah Blah Voucher…for a free…ooh a Lemon Fizz. 'For Tamara from LUNE'. My god. He's …stalking me. Were you threatened? Sarah?" She switched into stunned stance and touched Sarah's shoulder in worry.

Sarah was equally panicked. "No, I don't know I was just given this. I'm so sorry, I had no idea."

Tamara shook her head and relaxed. "Uh, sorry I panicked. Sorry really. Whad'ya get though?"

"Ahhh, uh, Peach Fizz."

"Yucko. Peaches. I hate 'em. Used to love fake peach flavor. Like the candies? I always would see them where I'm from." She exhaled and shifted feet. "Then- can ya believe it, I got one nasty rotten one with a worm."

Sarah almost fell flat. "Huh? What?"

"It was gross! I had a trip, I think. Diarrhea after. Must've been laced… with toxic stuff. I'm still mad at it to this day."

Sarah couldn't believe it. Identical story. But hers felt real at fifteen. She breathed.

"Well now, I gotta get going. I loved hanging with ya. Let's make a date, go drinking together. Again. How about that?" Tamara rubbed her shoulder in cordial pats.

Sarah loosened. "I'd love to. Call me when you wanna go. I hope it's soon, though." She put the card away.

"Sure thing! Can't wait, the sooner the drunk, the better." Tamara waved and walked away. "Now I gotta get an uber. Bye ya!" Tamara yelled, dialed a number and walked around the corner.

Sarah walked in the opposite direction. The bus was due to come soonish. It was still light and clear outside. Here we go with the peaches for free.

She moved her hand to readjust her hair, felt something. Looked at her hand, and on her palm lay glitter.

Screw it all.


End file.
